


ALL MY LOVE.

by JulianDevorak



Category: House of Wax (2005), The Boy (2016 Bell)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:21:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28643622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulianDevorak/pseuds/JulianDevorak
Summary: My self shipping works!
Relationships: Bo Sinclair/Original Female Character(s), Brahms Heelshire/Original Female Character(s), Lester Sinclair/You, Vincent Sinclair/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	1. Brahms and I

**Author's Note:**

> It, is, smut!

Brahms reached towards Penelope hesitantly, taking her face in his large hands. He relished the feeling of someone else, of her warm skin. He was breathing heavily already, barely able to contain his emotions. 

" _Love me_." he said, both a command and a question. 

"I do. I love you Brahms, I will love you forever."

"You are _mine_. To love and care for, you will stay here always, you will _not_ leave me." he demanded, his grip on her face tightening, grabbing her head so hard she knew he could break her neck with very little effort. She placed her hands atop his, gently, rubbing soft circles across his knuckles. 

"I am yours. To love and care for, I will stay here always, I will never leave y-" Brahms smashed his still masked face against hers, an awkward kiss, his breath so hot through it as he tangled his hands into her hair. 

"I don't know what to touch first, I don't know what to do with you." he hissed, groping her breasts, her ass, grabbing her hips, grabbing her crotch, faster than she could keep up. 

"I want all of you, I want everything, give it to me!" he demanded petulantly, pulling at her skirt trying to tear it off. Penelope helped him, unzipping it so he could pull it off. She unbuttoned her blouse as he tore down her panties, removing his mask and shoving his mouth against her cunt. His beard tickled her thighs as he clumsily mouthed her. He had no idea what he was doing, he was lost in the scent and taste he had spent so long fantasizing about anytime he managed to steal a pair of her panties. He kissed her, ran his tongue along her lips and his fingers roughly probed everywhere, looking for her entrance. While he searched she removed her blouse and her bra. 

"Brahms." she said gently and he looked up at her, immediately becoming fascinated with her breasts, grabbing at them desperately. 

"o-ouch!" she winced as he pinched her nipple too hard. He whined and pressed his forehead against hers. 

"I'm sorry love, I'm sorry." he said, his tone so gentle and concerned. 

"I don't want to hurt you, I never want to hurt _you_. I just want you so badly, I just want to touch you." he pleaded. He certainly knew how to sound sweet and innocent when he wanted to. He kneaded her breasts much more gently, nuzzling against her. 

"I know.. Why don't you take your clothes off too?" she said and he nodded, smiling crookedly as he hurried out of his clothes. He was so eager, so needy, already so erect it seemed painful. He pulled her onto his bed, pushing her down. He spread her legs wide, grabbing her thighs so hard it hurt as he struggled to shove himself into her. 

She reached between them to guide his cock and he let out a loud moan as he filled her to the hilt, already sweating, already panting, the relief of finally feeling this level of intimacy and especially with _her_ was almost enough to make him cum right away. 

"Brahms.." Penelope whined, reaching for him. Looking down at her, at this naked woman who wanted _him_ , saying _his_ name, reaching for _him_. He released her thighs and embraced her tightly, almost smothering her, kissing her sloppily as he haphazardly thrusted in and out of her, struggling to breathe as he moaned uncontrollably while trying to kiss her on her mouth, her cheeks, her neck, anywhere he could. Penelope struggled to kiss him back, wrapping her arms around him just as needily. 

"I love you Brahms." she said between moans as he ruthlessly fucked her. He gasped, staring into her eyes intensely. 

"Again." he demanded, trembling as he tangled his fingers into her hair, pulling it so hard she thought he might tear some of it out. 

"I love you!" she cried. 

"I love you, I love you-" Brahms almost screamed as he came, filling her up so much his cum leaked out of her, staining his bed. He collapsed on top of her. 

"I love you, I love you, _My_ Penelope, all mine." he said between ragged breaths. 

"I want more." he whined, nuzzling his face between her breasts, kissing and licking them.

"You're not ready for bed?" she asked. 

"No." he began to thrust into her again, hissing sharply through his teeth, the overstimulation almost too much for him, but the pain made it all the better. 

"Brahms, can you touch me here?" she asked, taking his hand and leading it to her clit. 

He nodded eagerly, rubbing her clit roughly. 

"Nn, gentle, like this." she moved his finger in circles, relieving some of his intense pressure against him and he learned quickly, continuing to rub her clit as he fucked her. 

His stamina was waning finally, his thrusts becoming much slower now but it made it all the more sensual and between that and his fingers on her clit she climaxed. He watched her intently as he did, taking in her whimpers, her expression, the way she arched her back and _God_ the feeling of her cunt clenching around him made his eyes roll back. No matter how badly he wanted to continue, all night if he could, he became far too tired. He collapsed and rolled onto his side, holding her tightly against his chest. The two of them were disgusting, between the sweat and cum they both desperately needed a bath, but neither of them could care. Penelope turned to face him, wrapping her arms around him and hooking her leg over his hips, nuzzling up against his hairy chest. Everything about him, the rapid pounding of his heart, the smell of him, the coarse hair on is body, everything was completely intoxicating to her, and however tired she was she leaned up to kiss him against his Adam's apple. He practically purred, running his hands up and down her back. 

"You need a bath." she said weakly. 

"Tomorrow. We can bathe together, and we can eat together too, we can do everything together now and neither of us will ever be alone again." he said, pressing her tightly against him.

"Yes Brahms. We'll be together always now." Brahms nuzzled his face into her long, wavy hair, and fell asleep. 


	2. Special pt.1 (Vincent/Lester/Bo Sinclair)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reposting from my tumblr, bigstabbymen

**(TW: noncon, abuse, kidnapping I guess? Kind of projecting past abusers into Bo so.)**

_Carly and her friends brought along a pity invite. AU where none of them make it. The brothers take a liking to their friend though._

Mary Cecilia Dorset had no real friends, and hardly any family to speak of, when she first arrived in Ambrose. Carly, a loose friend from high school had invited her along to go camping with her, her boyfriend, and their friends. Mary knew that none of them truly desired to be friends with her, but just by being her she provided a very special schadenfreude that they all enjoyed. While Carly wasn’t unkind to her, Mary knew she knew how her friends would react to her being invited. Mary was ill, born wrong, “different” from the time she was a toddler and everyone knew it. When the car broke down mysteriously and they had to make their way to the gas station in Ambrose, she was happy for the chance to get away from them. The house of wax seemed like the perfect place to hide for a while, and though it was closed, her curiosity lead her inside. What a fine place of beautiful things, a beauty she knew her ‘friends’ would never comprehend or properly respect. Just for the hour, this would be her sanctuary, a special place just for her. Abandoned and quiet, it was the perfect place to sing. Since Mary had been a young child she had sung to herself to keep herself company, and the sound of her voice echoed around the museum. The sound traveled, and was heard by someone far beneath her in the bowels of the museum. Vincent Sinclair was confused, startled that someone was in the museum but, intrigued just as well. When he quietly made his way up to see her, he gasped to himself. _What a beautiful girl, what a beautiful sculpture she would make_ , he thought. Her hair was chestnut brown and down to her waist, she wore a sweater almost as bulky as his own and a black skirt, black tights, black shoes. Her eyes were closed as she sang, and Vincent felt conflicted. If he made a sculpture of her he would never hear her sing again, maybe he could record her singing and play it always beside her sculpture, maybe he would keep it in the basement with him or in his room, maybe he could hide her from Bo and keep her all to himself, something for him and only him. His stomach churned. It was such an odd feeling, a sudden pang of empathy sharp as a needle in his heart. The desire not to hurt this creature, to keep her all to him, but alive and warm and moving and singing. 

Though, Bo would never allow Vincent any beautiful thing all to himself. 

Months had come and gone. All of Mary’s friends sat posed in perfect positions in the house of wax, winter came to Ambrose, and then Spring, and now under the harsh summer sun Mary stood outside of the Sinclair house in a sundress that had belonged to Trudy. Bo and Vincent both were very fond of dressing her in their mother’s old clothes, and as she hadn’t prepared to be in Ambrose longer than a few hours, she was happy for the new wardrobe. For the majority of her time here Vincent had tried his best to shield her from Bo, who mocked him incessantly for it. Vincent sketched her endlessly, sculpted her in various positions, filmed her whenever he could. So much of his workplace in the basement was full of her. He took pride in his little collection of Mary memorabilia that Bo would never have. Though eventually, Mary’s old life slipped away somewhere in the crevices of her brain and she became close to all three of the brothers Sinclair in one way or the other. 

A few times a week she rode along with Lester when he went out to collect his dead treasures. He showered and put on fresh clothes for the occasion every single time, and Mary enjoyed his company. She wondered if he prettied himself up for her because she was a woman or because she was always wearing his mother’s clothes, her perfume, reminding all three of the brothers of her and making their desperate attachment to her all the more intense. Over her sundress she wore a pocketed apron, she carried a basket with her and she always took her shoes off as soon as she and Lester were away from Ambrose, in the wilderness together as free as children. 

“Hey, beautiful.” Lester said as she approached. He was leaning against his truck and unabashedly staring at her chest. 

“Good morning Lester.” she said and he smiled his crooked, toothy grin at her. 

“Ready?” he asked as he opened the passenger door for her. 

“Absolutely.” 

Lester and Mary would go out to the woods, while he searched for any dead creature he could get his dirty hands on she searched for herbs, flowers, grasses and the like she used to make medicines, berries and mushrooms she used to cook. When her basket and the pockets of her apron were full she waited for Lester at his truck. Eventually he came around, grumbling to himself. 

“Nothin’ round here. Need to get out to the highway, gonna get you home before noon or I reckon’ Bo’ll skin me.” he said, spitting. He seemed so grumpy and frustrated that Mary couldn’t help but pity him. 

“Do you want a kiss?” she asked and he smiled shyly, looking at the ground as his cheeks flushed. 

“Awh dang, course’ I do.” he said. Mary set her basket down and wrapped her arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him and resting his forehead against hers. His breath smelled of whiskey even this early in the morning and his erection was very apparent through his jeans as he pressed himself against her. She kissed him gently and he kissed her back desperately, it was obvious he wanted more than just a kiss, but both of them knew Bo wouldn’t be happy about it. And for that matter, neither would Vincent. Even if all of them had taken turns with her at some point of the other, she could love none of them as much as she loved Vincent. She broke the kiss and he didn’t force himself on her, Lester never did. They rode back to Ambrose mostly in silence. 

Mary slipped into the house quietly, hoping not to alert Bo for as long as she could but it seemed he was out somewhere, or maybe at the gas station. Either way she was happy to be without him for the time being. The boys had given her their parents old room which she had mostly just used as a space to make tinctures and dry herbs, most nights she slept in Vincent’s bed with him, even if Bo had his way with her earlier, she would always slip away when he was finally asleep. None of the brothers could sleep well, and relied on her medicine to put them out, though she always gave Bo more than necessary. 

As evening fell, Mary made her way to Vincent’s room, locking the door behind her as she entered. She knew Bo could unlock it quickly but, at least this way they would hear him coming. Vincent stood up from his desk, closing his sketchbook quickly. 

“What were you drawing?” she asked kindly and he shrugged. He didn’t stop her as she made her way closer to him, opening his sketchbook and flipping through it. Image after image after image of her. Making tea in the kitchen, picking flowers, smiling, crying. Somehow he made her look beautiful. 

“You can always ask me if you want me to pose for you.” She said. 

“I prefer it this way.” he said quietly.

“I brought you medicine.” Mary said, plucking a small black bottle from her pocket.

“You don’t have to wear your mask around me if you don’t want to.” she said softly and he shuffled a bit uncomfortably. 

“May I?” she asked as she reached for his face. He flinched, but didn’t stop her from removing it. She set it aside on his desk and pushed his hair out of his face. 

“There. That’s better isn’t it.” she cooed. The way she could look at him and smile so genuinely made his heart beat so fast he thought it would explode. She ran her fingers over his face and stood on her toes to kiss both of his cheeks. His breath hitched and he put his hands on her shoulders. 

“I’m sorry!” she said, knowing he was sensitive about being touched but unable to resist. 

“Is this too much?” 

“No. I need to kiss you.” he said breathlessly, kissing her as awkwardly as he always did. Inexperienced and innocent, but equally determined and rough. He tangled his fingers into her hair and pressed his body against hers, he pressed himself against her so hard it was like he hoped they would melt together into one person. When he finally broke the kiss to catch his breath Mary took his hand and lead him over to his bed. She began to undress him, slowly, giving him every chance to stop her if he needed to. He didn’t. He let her remove his sweater, his pants. She ran her fingers over his chest, over the trail of hair that lead down into his underwear. He grabbed her hands and pushed her down, easily pinning both of her wrists above her head in one hand. With his other hand he pushed up her dress, though she was wearing nothing beneath it. He inhaled sharply at the sight of her, her breasts, her hard nipples, her cunt.. 

Mary spread her legs for him and he groaned needily, his erection straining against his underwear. He tentatively reached out, slipping two of his calloused fingers into her and curling them as she had shown him before. She gasped and closed her eyes, arching her back and he bent down to take one of her nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, trying to savor every small detail of her body. He was ashamed of how many times he had pleasured himself against the sculptures he made in her image, crudely grinding his cock against the wax, taking wax nipples into his mouth, nothing compared to the real thing. Warm, soft flesh. He couldn’t wait any longer, he slid his fingers out of her and freed his cock, unceremoniously ramming it into her and releasing her wrists to hold her closely. He kissed her deeply between guttural moans, forcing his tongue into her mouth, holding onto her so tightly it was painful as he thrusted into her haphazardly, eager to be as deep inside of her as possible. Mary held him just as tightly, rubbing his back, cupping his face, stroking both of his cheeks affectionately. 

“I adore you.” she said softly and his eyes rolled back as he climaxed. 

Vincent didn’t want to pull out, he wanted to stay connected to Mary forever. He was nearly smothering her he was holding her to tight, pressing her head against his chest. His heart was pounding and he was still breathing heavily. 

“Darling, I need to give you your medicine.” Mary said, moving his hair out of the way so she could kiss his cheek. He smiled slightly and leaned down to kiss her. 

“I love you. I love you very much.” he said between kisses. 

“Will you stay with me all night? Can we stay together every night, please?” he asked. 

“I’m sorry if you’re tired now, or if it hurts, but sometimes could we sleep like this?”

Mary had never heard him say so much at once, he seemed so happy. 

“I can try.” Mary said and Vincent happily kissed her again before finally rolling off of her.

Mary sat up and reached over to where the tincture bottle had fallen. Vincent kept a hand on her, unwilling to stop touching her for even a moment. 

She straddled him, sitting on his broad chest. He bit his lip and placed his hands on her thighs, eagerly hoping to fuck her again. Instead she took the dropper from the bottle and placed a hand under his chin, opening his mouth. He lifted his tongue, allowing her to drop the bitter liquid under it. While the medicine helped, Mary’s hands stroking his hair and her soft singing were the only things to truly lull him into a restful sleep. Though, he was not the only one who required her attention in the evenings. 

Bo’s footsteps were loud, sounding his arrival long before he reached Vincent’s door. Vincent grabbed Mary like he meant to hide her for a moment but she scrambled out of his grip, putting her dress back on as Bo jiggled the handle. 

“Mary? You in here?” he shouted. She unlocked the door and stepped out, shutting it behind her, wanting to put space between Bo and Vincent lest he get jealous and take it out on his twin. 

“Oh, ain’t this just somethin’ special.” he smirked down at her. 

“How long have you been fuckin’ my brother then? Both of em?” he asked, towering over her, but he started laughing at her before she could respond. 

“Ah hell. Guess we all get a turn with the only pussy in town. Don’t want you to go forgettin’ who you belong to though.” He said. He grabbed the bottle from her hand and took a swig from it, grabbing her face in his other hand and smashing his lips against hers. The bitter taste of alcohol and herbs on his lips was offensively strong as he bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. 

“ _You_ , are mine. _This_ -” he said, releasing her face to grab her groin just as hard. 

“Is mine. Say your goodnights to Vincent, I’ll be in my room. Don’t make me wait.” he said, pushing her hard into Vincent’s door and throwing the bottle at her. She hit her head against the door so hard she saw stars. As his footfalls faded Vincent finally came out, wrapping his arms around her tightly. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I’m such a coward.” He was crying, a mess of tears and mucus, his hair sticking to his face. 

“Couldn’t protect you, he’s gonna hurt you more.” he mumbled. Of all the people he had seen Bo hurt, all the people he had hurt for Bo, this was too much. Not Mary, not _his_ Mary. 

“It’ll be alright Vinny.” she said, smiling at him though her lips were covered in blood. 

“I have to go see him, you know I have to. But you lay down, and as soon as he’s asleep I’ll come right back to you.” she said. Vincent whimpered pitifully and buried his face into her hair. She hugged him, rubbing his back comfortingly. 

“Go on now, I’ll be back.” she said. Vincent clung onto her dress as she stood and it broke Mary’s heart to pull herself away from him and make her way to Bo’s room. 

Bo sat in his armchair, already naked, hazy-eyed from the medicine. He patted his thigh wordlessly and Mary slid out of her dress, sitting on his lap hesitantly. He wrapped his arms around her, stroking her head where she had hit the door and kissing her forehead. 

“I’m sorry.” he said quietly, forcing her to look at him. 

“You know I don’t wanna have to hurt you, right? You know I love you, don’t you?” he asked, his tone so sweet and gentle. 

“I know you don’t wanna hurt me. And I know you love me.” she said. He handled her roughly like she was a doll, forcing her to straddle him and lining up his cock with her entrance. 

“You love me too don’t you?” he asked, looking up at her with innocent, pleading eyes. 

“I love you, Bo.” she lied. He smirked and forced her down onto his cock, grabbing her so tight she felt like he could break her bones with his bare hands. 

“Of course you do, and you love this cock don’t you?” he asked, forcing her up and down on him. Mary always felt like she was slipping far away when he did this to her, she was thinking of Vincent. His hand across her face snapped her out of it. 

“Nope, you’re not going anywhere, you’re gonna look me in the eye and tell me how much you love me, how much you love gettin’ fucked by me understand?” he yelled. She grit her teeth, her breasts bouncing as he continued fucking her, but she complied. If not for her sake, for Vincent’s. 

Bo always fell asleep quickly after and Mary left as quietly as she could, showering before she went back to Vincent. He was clinging on to consciousness at the edge of sleep, waiting for her. As soon as she got close enough he grabbed her and pulled her to him, holding onto her the way a child does to their favorite stuffed animal. 

“I love you Vinny.” she said softly, stroking his hair the way his mother used to. 

“I love you too.” he said, too tired to cry again, though he wanted to. 

“I think you’re the only person left in the world who loves me.” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. Mary continued to stroke him as she started to sing, gentle lullabies from far away lands that always lead him to fields of flowers within his dreams. 


	3. Special pt.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one isnt porn

More and more often Vincent and Mary spent time together alone, away from the house, away from Ambrose. Out to the meadows he would follow her to sit and sketch her while she gathered herbs or danced, he watched her play with Lester in the stream though he himself would never join them, and more and more he wondered what might happen if he were to leave Ambrose altogether with her. He couldn’t, of course he couldn’t. His mother was here, her museum was here, all of her work, his work. But still, he thought about it. There were plenty of abandoned houses around Ambrose where it’s residents had once lived, perhaps he and Mary could move into one of them together, away from Bo. Perhaps..

When they finally made it home from an evening of gallivanting together with Lester Bo was already drunk and already furious. 

“How come you never invite me along anywhere?” Bo asked the minute they were through the door. Vincent held Mary’s hand tightly and looked to her for answers, always tongue-tied when it came to Bo. 

“I didn’t think you’d want to.” Mary said. 

“You think I don’t like.. Gettin’ out and..” he trailed off. He couldn’t contain his anger long enough to even finish his sentence. He grabbed her shoulders roughly and forced her away from Vincent. 

“Why do you love _him_ and not _me_? Is it just cuz you pity him? Why does everyone fuckin’ everyone pity Vincent, where’s _my_ fuckin’ sympathy huh?” he screamed in her face. Vincent shuffled about uncomfortably, wanting so badly to do anything to help but feeling paralyzed. 

“You’re just like mama always dotin’ on him always tellin’ him what a damn good boy he is, hell you even treat Lester like he’s somethin’ special but look at me with so much fuckin’ disdain you whore.” he shouted, punching her in the face. Vincent yelped louder than she did, but Bo caught her before she could fall over. 

“I’m so sorry Mary I’m so sorry.” he said, his voice trembling. Mary could barely see him, her vision was foggy, warm blood trickling out of her nose and into her mouth. She tried to speak, sputtering weakly and Bo pulled her to his chest, hugging her the way Vincent always did, shaking violently and repeating garbled apologies. Mary reached up and hugged him back to his surprise, rubbing his back the way she did for Vincent. 

“Now, calm right down.” she said and Bo nodded, sinking to his knees and hugging her around her waist, crying like a child. She took his hands, pulling them off of her and before he could whine in protest she leaned down and kissed the scars on his wrists. Bo looked up at her the way Vincent did, the way Lester did, as if she were their mother risen from the grave, as if she were Madonna come down from heaven to absolve his sins. As he buried his head back into her skirts to sob Vincent hugged her from behind, sobbing into her shoulder. With one hand she reached down to pet Bo’s hair softly, with the other she reached up to stroke Vincent’s, and as both of them cried she began to sing. 

That night the three of them fell asleep together. Vincent and Bo curled up against her, one of her hands in one of theirs, nuzzled up against her breasts, quiet and for the first time in many years, content. Mary was happy to comfort Bo, to quell some of the rage within him, but it was Vincent’s 


End file.
